I Want You to Know
by Sweet Berries n' Sour Apples
Summary: The thoughts you wish you could express in past and present relationships unfold. MiraiTrunks/Lita/Gokou


I Want You to Know.

Author's Note: **PLEASE READ FIRST!** _So, me and Sweet Berries always brain storm about possibilities for stories, and we discussed one kind of idea that really intrigued me. Now, if ya don't know, we kind of took the characters from DBZ and Sailor Moon and adapted them into different storylines. Gokou never landed on Earth and lived on planet Vegeta until he was older, and it was destroyed (plus a lot of extra details that will probably be explained in later stories). Anyway, that is explaining Gokou's character a bit to set you up for what you read. So, we thought, what if there was this weird love triangle thing where Future Trunks (Mirai Trunks) dated Lita before Gokou met her (in our stories and our adaptation of characters), but Future Trunks's character is so quiet and because of the hardships he faced, we thought, he would be a character that would have difficulty handling his emotions and sifting through his feelings. Gokou on the other hand, after facing some traumatic events as well, grew as a better person because of the pain. So, we thought, two characters with difficult backgrounds that dealt with things differently - what a great foil! (If ya don't know what foiling is amongst characters, I suggest you look it up). But basically, Gokou and Trunks parallel each other, but are also quite opposite. So, if each one had a relationship with Lita, how would it be different? Obviously below, we see Trunks after they dated, Lita's reaction, Gokou's reaction to Lita and Gokou's relationship, and in contrast, Lita's reaction to G and L's relationship. In essence, This is a huge, needed explanation for why I decided to write this. It's not completely tweaked or fixed. I'll probably still do some adjusting, but take it as it is. Can you guess who is who in each snippet? :) _

_ Thanks again guys for all the support! Hope you enjoy this one. Maybe a bit out of your comfort zone, but try it! You might like it. :) Who knows, right?_

_ And please don't flame me for character changes. I warned you above that we've tweaked and changed certain characters and may have interpreted them differently than others. So, flames will be deleted._

_Sour Apples~_

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She is perfect. Everything she does is perfect. From the way she moves across the floor toward me when I get home from work, to how she hums ever-so quietly to an indistinguishable tune when she's completely fixated on a task. The way her eyes would stare helplessly at me with those long, curled lashes, fluttering those dreamy looks at me once in awhile. When I think about these things, I know I took her for granted. Every touch. Every caress. ...every kiss. I never savored every moment. The way her lips lingered over my cheek as she combed her slender digits through my lavender hair. She longed to be seen. Touched. Held. I never knew how to give that to her.

How could I ever tell her she was the first thing on my mind when I woke up? Her soft arms looped desperately around my arm every morning, caressing the contours of my hands and fingers. She was desperately looped and intertwined around me - holding on to me so tightly - perhaps a metaphorical image I did not foresee. The mere touch of her flesh against mine made my heart stop - but how could I tell her that?

Now, all I can see is the back of her curly, mess of hair - her arms lavishing another with the same affection. How can I tell her how much it hurt? How can I tell her that I needed her? How can I tell her...?

She is perfect, but she will never know it from me.

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He is cold. Cold and indifferent. Sometimes when he'd look at me, it was like looking into an empty room. Cold, dark... nothing. Although I'd desperately try to hold on to him, bring him back to me, he would stop. Stop and say nothing. He often did that. Said nothing.

In the beginning, he was my world. I would have done anything for him. When he came home from work, my heart leapt out of my chest and into his arms. In the beginning, I didn't notice it. I didn't notice the distance - the wall - he would put up. Although I would run my fingers over his handsome face, loving every detail about it, and try desperately to look into his cold, blue eyes, there was nothing there. His stoic silence dug deep into my heart every time. Again and again and again. Until it cut so deep, I bled. I bled everything.

The day I left, I tried not to look back over my shoulder. But as I passed the threshold of our old apartment, I paused for a moment - a small hope he would come running after me, pull me into his arms and hold me close, never wanting to lose me again. But as I journeyed further and further from the threshold, my heart grew heavier and heavier. No footsteps. No begging. No him. I felt the weight of my pain drag me into the pavement as I fell to my knees. I wept every last drop of hope I ever had for him.

After all had drained from my body, I pushed myself forward, digging for that last light of hope that lay ahead. So forward, I moved - leaving a piece of me behind with him. I hope he knows how much I left behind.

He is cold. So cold that he never came after me.

* * *

She is everything. From the top of her mahogany curls to the bottom of her tiny feet, she is everything. She is _my_ everything. The feeling of her small frame against my own, and her small fingers dancing through every strand of my hair makes me crazy for her. Every night before we fall asleep, her soft cheeks are always pressed up against mine, and I can feel her breath lightly feather the edges of my face. The steady rhythm puts my mind at ease - all my complications and burdens lift into the sky for now, when she is next to me.

The first time I saw her, she was sad. Her green eyes constantly glassy, on the verge of letting tears fall upon those soft, rosy cheeks. I've seen this face before, and when I'd look at her, I remembered my own sadness. Seeing it before me stopped me. Shook me. Gripped me. Enraptured me. I could see her brokenness, and I wanted to fix it. I wanted to fix everything about her.

When she looks at me with those dark green eyes, eyes the color of dusk falling upon the forest trees, I remembered why I was here in this foreign place. Why I was here saving this planet. She was my reason for everything. Regardless how far I had to go to fulfill my duties, I felt her. I felt her love, her heart, and her soft lips dappling mine. When I was gone, I smelled her sweet scent lingering on the edges of my shirt. Her scent was intoxicating. The delicacy of flowers, the sweet taste of berries, and the spice of cinnamon tickling my sensations. This woman was distinct, and she was mine. I want her to know that - that she was and is always on my mind, even when time and distance separate us.

She _is_ my everything, and I want to give her _everything_.

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He is mine. All mine. All of his quirks, his being, his presence. It is mine. The first time I met him, I was broken. But when he gazed down at me for the first time with those onyx hues, I saw everything reflected back at me - the brokenness I felt. He understood me. He knew me before I spoke. For the first time in a long time, someone saw me. He saw me.

The first time we made love, his rough hands traced the outer shape of my body for so long. His eyes drifted over every dip and curve as if he were taking his time. For a moment he paused before he continued, and looked up at me. At first, I felt myself grow embarrassed and refused to look into his intense gaze. Before the embarrassment overwhelmed me, I felt his lips slide over the side of my cheek as he let out a heavy and awaited sigh. Whispering gently against my face, I could feel his breath trace the side of my ear. "You're beautiful..." He simply said. I smiled softly into his cheek at this, my fingers tracing the rough patch of skin that marked the side of his handsome face.

I knew from then on he was mine, and I was his. I wanted to be his. Everything about him amazes me. The way he takes care of me, the way he looks at me in the mornings when we first wake up. Everything he does makes my heart melt and my stomach flutter. A mere kiss, and I am gone - floating over the clouds and melting into his arms. I adore him. Every last bit of him. Because he adores me - every last bit of me - perfect or not. I want him to know that.

He is mine, and I am his. Forever.

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_Author's Note: Who was who? :)_


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